


Let in the Strays

by Azorathoth



Series: Gathering the Strays [1]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Also this is kinda going to be a series of rewrites maybe if i have motivation, Canon Rewrite, i couldn't look at the original jtk and let all that potential go to waste, jeff with more realistic injuries, liu is respelled as Lou as it SHOULD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 04:51:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6597466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azorathoth/pseuds/Azorathoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Case File: Jeff The Killer. Jeffery Woods is being dragged far away from his hometown with his family. He was never meant to leave, but now that he's out in the rest of the world, he must learn to accept his new lot in life, no matter what that entails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From Between the Lawns

_From the local news magazine,_ Between the Lawns

Unknown Killer Attempts to take Child’s Life

After months of unexplained murders with common traits between targets, the aptly named Couple Killer had targeted young, fifteen-year-old Billy Stirling and his parents. Stirling recounted a disturbing tale of what happened Wednesday night in an interview.

“I had woken up from a nightmare,” Billy explained. “About small demons. It was about three in the morning. I noticed that my window was open, even though I had definitely closed it to keep the cold out, like my mother had told me to. I shut the window, making sure it was locked this time before going back to bed. I had gotten comfortable, but I felt a little weird. I thought someone was watching me. I looked up and saw this guy. It was too dark to see, but his hoodie was covered in blood. He smelled awful. He was standing over me. Like, on the bed. I don’t know how I didn’t notice him. There were these glowing flecks around him and this black goo was dripping from his eyes, nose, and mouth.

“The man whispered an old nursery rhyme to me, telling me to go back to sleep. So I screamed, and he shoved a knife in my shoulder. He started to stab me, and he got about four jabs in before my dad came in. I got a good look at his profile when he turned to look at my dad. He had no nose. He had a long scar of a smile.

“My dad didn’t get a word out before the knife that was in my shoulder and stomach was in his throat. Then, my mom came in just as the man was gathering his knife. She started screaming, ‘I’m calling the cops! They’re on their way!’ Those were her last words before the knife was in the back of her head. He took the knife and put it in a sheath on his hip before jumping out of a window in a hall. I think he forgot me. I wasn’t ever really into church, but now I thank God a lot. The glass shattered and all I could think was we’re on the second story, and my… the old house doesn’t have any ledges to land on. I got onto my feet to look at him, try to see what he looked like. He was running so fast, it wasn’t human. Then the cops come with an ambulance. My parents were dead and I was the only one left. I’m crying and don’t know what to do and they take me to the hospital.

“I don’t know what else there was to him. A white hoodie, no nose, never blinking, and a long scar. What I do know will haunt me and my dead parents will never leave me.”

Until now, the unknown killer has only ever attempted to kill persons two at a time, hence his alias of Couple Killer.

Police are convinced that Billy Stirling’s description of the man was a result of his shock. However, Stirling’s description is all police have to work with.  If you see anyone fitting this description, please contact your local police department.


	2. Jeff's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeffery "Jeff" Woods is more of a legend than a man.

Jeffery ground his teeth together, eyes fixed out of the car window. Moving wasn’t what he wanted to do, and no cheering up from his brother could please him.

“Come on, Jiffy! You’ll be able to call Gary, like, all the time. It will be like you never left!” Lou barely focused on trying to cheer up his brother, playing on his dumb DS. It was chiming repeatedly, making Jeff groan obnoxiously. He turns to Lou and reaches for his game, trying to take it from his hands to turn it off.

“Give me that stupid game! It’s been loud this whole trip!” Jeffery laughs as Lou whines loudly for his mom, a momma’s boy as usual. “This isn’t about Gary Park!”

“Mom! Jeff’s picking on me again! Tell him to stop!”

“Jeff, leave your brother alone.” Their mother doesn’t even look up to seriously scold Jeffery, and their laughter only gets louder and more rambunctious. They only stop when the car turns a sharp corner, the both of them grunting and screeching as they tumble against Jeff’s door.

The boys’ father laughs as they get into their seats. “I told you both to put your seatbelts on when we were three hours into Ohio. That was nearly four hours ago.”

In unison, Lou and Jeff sigh out, still not doing as their father says. “Sorry dad.”

Jeff supposed that he should try to be _chipper_ or _happy_ about this move. It was for his dad and his promotion. They were going to be moving to a nice suburb. Lou was happy. There was a new, large, four bedroom house in the family’s future.

Jeff’s father pulled into a driveway and the dread that had been pooling in Jeff’s gut flipped. He gets out of the car before it was parked, looking around the new surroundings. His eyes met the woman’s across the white picket fence and he couldn’t help himself as he cringed. The neighbor’s spotted him. She smiles and waves, so he shoves his hands in his pockets.

The woman, with her watering can, walks closer to the fence. “Hello, neighbors! So you’re the new family moving in.”

Jeff’s mother smiles at the woman, deciding to meet her halfway. “That’s right, neighbor!” She laughs gently and the other woman joins in. “I’m Margaret. Please, call me Marge. These are my boys, Jeff and Lou. This is my husband Peter. It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Oh, darling, ma’am is my mother! I’m Barbara. And my son – Billy! Come meet the new neighbors!”

Jeff was a bit put off. This kid was thirteen. Jeff was nearly 17! The boy’s mouth becomes a flat line before a greeting comes. “Hi. Momma, I’m going back to playing Pokemon.” Billy escapes quickly back into the yard, cheering with other boys.

Barbara sighs at her child’s uncaring personality. “He’s just getting to be a teen. Oh, your boys should come to my boy’s party. He’s very friendly, I promise; the boy’s just shy.”

Jeff nearly had a heart attack. No way, no how. He couldn’t be caught at some little kid’s party! “Mom – “

“Oh, you know what! We’d love to come to Billy’s party! This will be a great opportunity to chat and get to know the neighborhood!”

Lou and Jeff glance to each other. They try to look to their father, but he was already gone, as if knowing his wife’s ways too well.

Barbara was ecstatic. “It will be so nice for Billy to have older friends! He’s in the eighth grade, you know! Young, but getting ready to get old.”

“Oh, I know how that is. Speaking of which,” Marge turns to her sons, smiling pleasantly. “Boys, start unpacking. I’ll be right over to help.”

Jeff bumps shoulders with Lou, a deep glare on his face. Was his mom trying to embarrass him? Lou follows suit, pouting at the ground rather than at his mother. The second the boys make it inside of the house, Jeff kicks over his largest suitcase.

“God damn it!”

“Language.”

Jeff lets out a frustrated shout at his father’s corrections from down stairs. He hears his mother soon afterwards, questioning her husband as to what was wrong.

Jeff leans over the railing of the upstairs landing, nearly hanging over.

“Mom! Why did you think we’d want to go to some little kid’s party? I’m turning seventeen! I’m graduating in less than two years! I can’t be caught around some kid! Lou agrees! Right Lou?”

Lou grins sheepishly before ducking into his room. What a traitor. A dull rage rose in Jeff’s chest, only becoming worse when his mother called his name.

“Jeffery. I am trying to leave a good impression on our neighbors. We should present ourselves properly, and being good guests at a party is just what we need for some elbow rubbing.”

“Mom, what about the reputation I’ll have at school? You know kids kill themselves over crap like this!”

“You are going to that party, young man, especially with that tone! What is wrong with you lately? Did you not take your medication again?”

Jeff nearly exploded. It was always about his god damn depression, his ADHD and _crazy psycho teenaged_ tendency to be conscious of society and his feelings. He tosses up his hands, teeth gnashing around his words.

“Alright! Fine!”

He knew it was no use to resist. His mom was always right, even when she was wrong. Her word was law, and he hated it.

For a second, Jeff tried to remember if he had taken his meds. Even if he hadn’t, they were too far buried in his luggage.

Instead, the amped up angry urge settled in his stomach. It was familiar, like a dull memory. He would have liked to fall asleep to the feeling, but he had unpacking to take his anger out on.

The first day of school was on Jeff and Lou in two days time from their day of arrival. Jeff vacuumed in his cereal while Lou rambled off about his video games. Jeff wasn’t much of a gamer, so every word was gibberish, so he just nods at his brother politely. Within a pause, Jeff swallows his food before calling out.

“Dad? Have you seen my pills? Couldn’t find em, while I was unpacking.”

His father grunts, taking a moment before answering. “No. Did you ask your mom?”

“Dad, you know mom’s not awake right now.” Lou pushes his half finished cereal, grinning at his dad. What a forgetful man.

Jeff, on the other hand, was still in a bad mood. There was a sharp pinch in the back of his mind, urging Jeff to knock over the table in a low mumble. He doesn’t, settling instead with biting into his metal spoon.

“Woah,” Lou stares at Jeff’s angry face, eyes darting to the dented spoon. “Who pissed in your cheerios?”

“Shut up Lou!” Jeff throws down the ruined spoon, his fist hitting the table. “I just. I need. My. Meds.”

Jeff’s father looked to his sons. They weren’t at each other’s throats in a fight yet. “Jeff. Don’t you and Lou have a bus to catch?”

Jeff’s eyes swung to his father’s, the aggressive spark dying down. Dad was right. Jeff grabbed his bag, drank down the rest of his food before heading to the door. Lou follows suit, grabbing his bag. He trots after his older brother, trailing behind. There was something wrong, he could feel it.

“Hey!” Lou stops Jeff, grabbing the sleeve of the other young man’s favorite hoodie. Jeff pulls his arm away, not getting a chance to ask what Lou wants. “Let’s sit here. This is the bus stop, after all.”

Jeff looks at the crappily painted bench that was probably installed by the school and created by the art students. It was way too bright and made his eyes hurt.

He guessed it was quaint. Heartwarming, even.

He sits on the gaudy bench, him and Lou taking up all of the bench space. He lounges, arms spread out while Lou pulled out his DS. God, he was obsessed with the thing. Jeff stares for a moment, frowning in thought. How could he get rid of the game?

The sound of bike bells and chains clicking into different gears gets Jeff’s attention. A wheel was heading for his face, and his quick reflexes made him shout.

“Get down!”

He shoves Lou’s head down, ducking with him.

“What the hell, Jeff? I am literally going to kill you.”

Jeff stood, gritting his teeth and ignoring his brother. What were these punks playing at? Three teens, around the same age as Jeff and Lou, circle the duo, laughing at their leader’s douche bag trick.

The three boys screech to a stop, their dirt bikes shiny and clean. The shocks are still without rough terrain to bounce on. It was obvious the bikes hadn’t ever been dirtied by something like off road biking. Each kid was dressed raggedly despite their obvious affluent status. One of them was even wearing a fucking American Eagle shirt. What was this, middle school?

“Look boys, fresh meat.” The lead teen stood over his bike, kicking down the kick stand. He dismounts the bike, letting it stand by itself. His two cronies follow suit. “Listen close because I don’t repeat myself. I’m Randy, that’s Keith -”

Randy points to a beanstalk of a teen, all gangly limbs and buck teeth. His eyes were bloodshot and empty, and he reeked of weed.

“And that is Troy.”

Randy then shoves his thumb in the direction of a giant boy, fat, bald and tall. He looked like a bouncer that hadn’t really lifted something besides a burger.

Randy and his goons approach slowly. Randy grins, a hand on his pocket. “We collect the bus fare around here if you catch my drift. Hand over your money.”

Lou stood up first, leaving his game on the bench. He pulls his fist back, only to be faced with a glinting knife.

Randy smirks at Lou’s bewildered face. Lou backs down as the young man moves forwards.

“See, I knew you’d cooperate. Now, I won’t repeat myself.”

Lou barely had his wallet out of his back pocket before Randy snatches it away. He opens it, digging his grubby hands in and pulling out eight dollars; why would Lou need more for lunch? Randy scoffed.

“What is this shit?” Randy waves the now empty wallet, throwing it at Lou’s chest. Lou fumbles with the wallet, looking away in frustrated shame. That was all of his money for the next few days.

Jeff’s violent urge made his jump into action despite Lou trying to get Jeff to back off by grabbing his hoodie. Jeff pulled away, getting right in Randy’s face.

“Listen here, you little fuck. Give me my brother’s money back before I beat your spoiled ass.”

Randy scoffed, not happy with the fact that they were the same size. “You don’t have the balls. I have a knife. What do you – “

Jeff socked Randy in the face. He could feel the cartilage crackle. Randy reaches for his bloodied nose, only to be stopped by Jeff’s hand. He grins, twisting the younger teen’s wrist until Randy screams. The sound of the joints breaking away from each other and bones snapping brings a satisfaction to Jeff that he’d never felt. Jeff took the knife that Randy dropped, admiring it for a moment before making eye contact with the other three boys.

Troy and Keith were stunned before rushing at Jeff, but their hesitance gave him plenty of time. Keith tries to swing at Jeff with his own knife, only to fall forward into nothing. Jeff lodges the knife that he took from Randy into Keith’s arm from behind. Keith drops his knife and falls to the ground with a bloody splat, screaming and clutching his arm.

Troy is next to try, only to be stopped by a punch to the gut. Jeff’s fist twists and digs into Troy, making the boy barf onto the sidewalk. He fell to the ground, groaning and crying in pain.

Lou’s jaw dropped in awe and horror. His eyes went from the bloodied and wounded boys to Jeff, breathing shallowly.

“Jeff. What did you do? How did you - ?”

Jeff spotted the bus behind Lou as it approached. The older boy grabs his brother’s arm, pulling him away and running. Lou looked back, even as Jeff was focused on moving forward. He could see the bus driver leave the yellow vehicle, rushing to the three fallen students. Jeff never stopped his run, even as Lou begged and pleaded breathlessly for him to stop or speak or _do something_!

The duo made it to school, sitting in the office. They were greeted pleasantly by a young secretary who commented on the ‘ketchup’ stained hoodie, scolding him on the small, unsightly spot. Lou jumped, stuttering a bit, looking to Jeff for an answer. None was supplied.

They were given their schedules and sent on their way, giving Lou a chance to calm down. Okay, it was just Jeff beating the shit out of some problematic kids. They attacked them. What could happen?

Jeff, on the other hand, was tense. Even if he had lived the moment, he couldn’t believe it. He knew that he was in a lot of trouble if someone found out, and that was terrifying.

He was frightened for two reasons; in the moment, he felt numb. His limbs moved automatically, like he was built for battle. He had lost all sense of self control, and yet, it was also scary because there was too much power given to him. He could hurt someone and they couldn’t stop him. What could they do to him? He couldn’t be touched.

Jeff smiled, pleased as punch. The violent tendencies were repressed for the moment, like the satisfaction of an addiction. There were no outbursts during school, except when Lou lamented the loss of his DS.

Returning home was pleasant, with Lou being silent for the first time in quite a while. The voice of his mother took a moment to penetrate his mind, the question of how his day was making him pause.

Jeff smiled gently to his mother, deciding to take over cooking for her. He takes the knife in her hand, proceeding to finish chopping up the chicken for stir fry. “Today was great, mom.”

Jeff slept soundly that night. Lou had vicious nightmares.

One week later, in the morning before school, there was a powerful knock at Jeff’s front door. He didn’t bother to get out of bed quite yet, sighing at his alarm clock. Ten minutes until it went off.

“Jeffery Edward and Louis Marcus Woods! You two get down here this instant!”

Jeff breathed deeply before getting up as instructed, pulling on a pair of pants before descending the stairs. Lou wasn’t downstairs quite yet, so he got to bear the brunt his mother’s rage. There were two men at the door as well. The police were in his doorway.

“Jeffery, these officers say that you assaulted three kids! They’re telling me you stabbed them! One of them had a broken nose and wrist! He had to have stitches! What did you do?”

Jeff was silent, but only for a moment. His voice was raised, a deep frown on his face. “Mom, they pulled knives on us! They were trying to mug us! God knows why considering they had money for expensive dirt bikes.”

One of the cops, a husky man, seemed to become impatient. “Son, a witness claims you fled from the scene. The three kids say that you attacked them. A gaming system belonging to you and your brother was found at the scene. A secretary says she saw you and your brother run – literally run in – late for class. Two kids were stabbed and one has internal bleeding. You were on the bus’s video camera after the fact exiting on the stop that the boys were found. We aren’t judges, but we’re very sure it was you.”

Jeff’s first thought was that he should have killed the bus driver as well. He couldn’t prove that they were attacked first, and Jeff had used excessive force. What was the use?

Jeff’s mother sobbed in her throat. “I didn’t sign you two up for martial arts for you to use them on people, Jeffery!”

The young man snapped at his mother. “It’s Jeff mom! It’s just Jeff! Jesus Christ!”

The second officer, a shorter black man stared Jeff down. “Call down your brother. We have to have a talk with him, too.”

Jeff sucked in a deep breath. “No! Wait, it was me. It was just me. I stabbed them. Lou didn’t even try to fight. He’s a good kid.”

The officers glanced at each other. “Are you sure, son? That’s a serious admission. That’s a year in Juvenile Detention, at least and jail time at worst.”

Lou dropped one of Jeff’s combat knives on the ground, letting it clang against the ground. Everyone looked up at Lou except for Jeff, whose wide eyes couldn’t see anything but the knife.

“It wasn’t Jeff. It was me.” Lou rolled up his sleeves, showing off gauze and bruises. When Jeff did finally look up, he was disturbed by the perfectly round marks. The bruises were from Lou slamming himself into a door knob. “They put up a fight, but they kinda snatched my game. I was going to win, too.”

“This is brave of you, boy.” The husky cop grunted, pulling out handcuffs. “If you come easy, it will be one less thing to worry about. We’ll even forget about your brother’s attempt to commit obstruction of justice.”

Lou cooperated with the officer, offering up his hands at he walked to him. Jeff attempted to run for Lou, to stop him.

“He’s lying! It was me! I did it! I was trying to keep him safe, I was trying to – “

Jeff was breathing heavily, his mother crying hysterically; first her youngest was being arrested, and now she was holding back her oldest with all of her might. Lou didn’t comment, eyes downcast as he was loaded into the back of the police car.

Jeff’s mother’s hand couldn’t keep him back, but Lou was already in the car. The older brother banged on the window, breath skipping and hitching. “Lou! Lou! Tell them, tell them it was me! Tell them I tried to mur - !”

The car drove off, sending Jeff to his knees. His mother came to comfort him, wiping her tears from her face. “Jeff. Baby. Please. You don’t have to lie for Lou. Stop it.”

Jeff watches hopelessly as the cops drive off with his baby brother. It had only been eight days.

Seconds later, Jeff’s father comes from inside of the house, having slept in. He sees his family, sans Lou, and knows something had happened. He approaches his blank-faced, tear streaked wife, a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, looking up at her husband.

“Honey?” He asks. “What’s wrong?”

She looks at Jeff, staring at the concrete, whispering to her husband. “It’s… Lou. He assaulted some kids. He, oh goodness, he’s been arrested. Our baby boy.”

Jeff’s father looked to his wife, then to his son. He leads his wife inside, deciding to give Jeff some space. As he turns, lover in arms, he says, “Jeff, you can stay home for today.” The disappointed couple left their son there, knowing that he would eventually return to the home.

Jeff ground his teeth, one of them possibly cracking. Any other day, no school would have been wonderful. He didn’t understand it; how could they have actually thought that Lou, sweet, loveable, nerdy-little-brother Lou could have hurt those shit heads. He lifts himself, turning to his home. He goes through the front door, slamming it behind him before climbing the stairs to his bedroom. Jeff falls into bed, unable to sleep. He lay there for hours, the sun rising and falling. He chanted, ‘Just go to sleep, just go to sleep,’ over and over, until he had been greeted once more by the sun. His parents didn’t make him go to school again. He was nothing but guilt and rage.

He missed his seventeenth birthday.

His mother seemed intent on moving on. She opened the closed blinds of Jeff’s room, letting in the sunshine.

“Jeff, you know what today is?”

Jeff groans awake, covering his boxers with his blanket. “G’dammit, mom. Get out.”

She seems to not hear him, a dreamy smile on her face. “That’s right! Billy’s birthday!”

“Fuck no. Mom, you are not serious. I’m not going to some kid’s party!”         

Jeff’s delusional mom smiled shakily at the sound of her young man’s cursing. “But you haven’t been out of the house for four days! The sun will be good for you!”

“Mom, Lou was arrested.”

That stopped his mother’s delusions and smiles, turning her pleasant expression into a scowl. “Listen to me Jeffery. We are going to this goddamn party. Get dressed, or I will not be afraid to turn you in too.”

Jeff was stunned as his mother walked out, the door closing behind him. He sat for a moment before getting up, deciding to follow instructions. He put on a white hoodie and black jeans. Simple.

He walked downstairs, his eyes darkened as he saw his mother’s colorful dress and his father’s button-down.

“This is a thirteen-year-old's birthday party, not a social event.”

“Son,” His mother started. “Is that all you’re going to wear?”

“Yes.”

Jeff sneered at his mother. She sighed as she looked at her phone screen. “There’s no time for you to change anyway. Let’s go.”

The smiling woman strained to keep up her façade, shooing her husband and son out the door and to the neighboring house. The mourning mother knocked on the door, only for Barbara to excitedly open the door. Her eyes swept over three faces, wondering where the fourth was. She glanced at Margaret’s pained eyes and smiled to Jeff.

“The kids are in the yard, sweet pea. Why don’t you see if you can’t be the cool, older boy?”

Jeff looked behind Barbara, noticing how the room was full of parents and decided to follow her lead out. “Yeah, I can do that.”

When Jeff made it outside, he regretted everything. The party was full of eighth graders, mostly wearing blacks and red and talking about shitty anime and shitty crushes. There were a few kids even playing tag and cops and robbers. What were they, five?

A kid knocks into Jeff, falling on his face as he tripped over him. The kid was round and had been slowly chasing the other tweens. The kid’s brilliant idea was to sputter before slapping Jeff’s leg.

“You’re it!”

The kids seemed to all stare expectantly, and Jeff sighed. He ignored the small tub of lard, deciding to chase the other kids. His legs were longer and stronger, and he caught a wiry kid and there was an odd sense of pride as he told the middle schooler, “You’re it.”

Jeff had been so worried about looks and image before, but at the moment, he felt like a kid. He was having some fun. Everything here reminded him of his time playing with Lou and that filled him with some hint of joy.

The sound of older boys laughing made Jeff drop the kids he had been swinging around on his arms. They protested, but shied away from the murderous glare that Jeff gave to the chortling and teasing teens. Randy.

“Jeff! How you doin’ buddy? We gots some talking to do.”

Jeff glanced at Randy’s crooked nose and his sealed wound. His hand was in a cast, and all Jeff could think about was being bludgeoned. “Look Randy. You got my brother sent to jail. You ruined his life. You’re done. We’re even.”

Randy barked out a laugh, shoulders tensed. “I don’t do even. I win. I always win.”

Jeff fell to the ground, his vision swirling. He didn’t see Randy tackle him and couldn’t have prepared for the cast bludgeoning his forehead. Jeff avoided a second hit, grasping the cast and using it to break Randy’s nose again. Randy rolled off of him, screaming but still getting to his feet. Jeff followed suit, ignoring the mob of frightened kids and startled parents. Parents grabbed kids; others called the police. Even as this happened, Keith pulled out a gun, shooting once into the air.

“Everyone get the fuck on the ground! No one goes anywhere!”

All that registered to Jeff was ringing in his ears and screaming. Was that him screaming? He pulls out the small pig sticker in his shoulder, wondering what Randy really thought he could do with it. He didn’t notice he was on the ground until Randy kicked him in the face. There was the crunching of a breaking nose and the further concussing of Jeff’s brain. His hands latched onto Randy’s foot, the crack of it making the boy crumple.

Jeff stood, panting heavily. “I c’uld break an’ther wris, if you need it.” He starts to walk away, swaying a bit as the room spins. He’s easily caught by Troy, who lifts him by the back of his hoodie. He looks at Randy, grinning stupidly.

“Need some help?”

“Just finish beating the shit out of him!”

Jeff gets tossed through a patio door and into the house, much to the shock of the adult party goers still inside. Jeff goes to stand, only to be kicked down again by a limping Randy. He was fueled by his hate and rage for Jeff. It was a feeling the teen being kicked knew much better than his younger peer. The drool Jeff coughs up becomes speckled with red.

“Aw, don’t tell me you can’t fight now! You were doing so well!”

Jeff doesn’t see who does it, but someone throws him into the kitchen. The sound of shattering glass is engulfed by the ringing in Jeff’s ears and the stench of hard alcohol.

“Get up and fight!"

Jeff goes crashing through a glass coffee table, sliding a bit. He’s motionless, eyes barely opened. He wasn’t just getting beaten. He was going to die.

“Jeff, look at me! I sent your brother to jail!”

Jeff does as told, looking at Randy. His eyes were filling with blood, so a few red patches clouded his vision.

“I made it so that you brother is going to rot! If he goes to jail, he’s probably going to come back broken. How long was the usually sentencing? A year? For shame, you fucker.

Jeff stands. He wasn’t going to listen to this shit. That urge, that violent urge, it was back with a vengeance. But this time, it spoke a mantra:

Go to sleep.

Under those words was a nursery rhyme, one that his mother sang to him as a child.

“Finally, you’re up! Are you going to fight like a man now?”

Jeff’s blank eyes blinked past the vodka and blood on his face. Jeff sneers, hands flexing.

“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word.”

The whispered nursery rhyme doesn’t reach Randy’s ears; there was too much noise pollution for anyone to hear that. But seeing Jeff speak makes Randy charge like a bull.

Jeff grabs him and stops him in his tracks easily. He lowers himself, arching back and suplexes Randy into the ground. The younger boy crumples, head bleeding profusely from the force of the impact. He falls onto his back, completely in shock as Jeff straddles his chest, knees pinning Randy’s arms. He punches Randy incredibly hard. The punches keep going and going for what seems like forever until Randy stops gasping for breath. His face swells and distorts until that smug face becomes a smudge.

Blood marks all of Jeff’s hoodie, the bottom of the garment no longer white and pristine. Everyone stares at the puddle that used to be Randy. The children cry into their parent’s embraces, the parents staring at the former monster and the other monster that killed him.

Troy and Keith never expected Randy to die, but it wasn’t like they couldn’t finish Jeff in their last act for their de facto leader. Keith points his daddy’s gun at Jeff, and immediately the blood soaked teen turns and hauls ass up the stairs. Bullets fly from the one gun, each missing.

When Jeff reaches the second floor, he frantically searches for something, anything! He ducks into a bathroom, hearing Troy and Keith not too far behind. They let out their last few bullets, the gun being discarded. The sound of the tool hitting the ground gave Jeff the signal he needed. Jeff rips off the metal towel rack from the bathroom’s wall, swinging it and hitting Troy. He stays on his feet for only a moment, swaying before falling. He was knocked out, bleeding on the carpets.

Jeff turns his focuses to Keith. He swings, just like he did at Troy, but Keith was too swift. His beanstalk frame ducks under the metal rack, only to follow through and grab Jeff by the neck. Jeff croaks as he’s pushed against a wall, a gallon of bleach falling on the ground and coating the both of them. They both scream, the substance in their eyes and burning their skin. The heat only increased with more time, taking off much of the hair on Jeff.

Jeff cleared his eyes all he could, his blurry vision not stopping him from smashing a metal pipe into Keith’s head. The skinny man begins to bleed out, a smile on his face through the dizzying haze.

“What’s so funny?” Jeff growled, only to pause as Keith pulls out a Zippo.

“You’re covered in alcohol.”

Jeff’s stare widened, the last thing he remembers being the sight of a flame catching the alcohol on his body.

Jeff screams uncontrollably, the flames engulfing his body. He tumbles down the stairs and into the crowd of children and adults. His vaguely human shape alarmed adults in the room and all Jeff can remember is the sight of his mother and father. His world went dark.

 

And it would stay dark.

When Jeff did finally wake up, he was disturbed by small voices and lights flashing behind his closed eyes. His entire face was wrapped. How could he breathe? He tried to call for someone, but no one could hear him. He explored his injuries, feeling the stitches and casts that littered his body. He tries to stand, only to be inhibited by an IV tube. He pulls it out after a bit of feeling, his voice muffled. He sounded like a growling animal, moving jerkily as he tries to stand. A nurse was alerted to put him into bed and reinsert the IV needle.

“Jeffery, you can’t quite get out of bed yet! You’re quite hurt. You’ve been quite the hero, you brave little man, you.” Jeff gargles as he tries to speak, a bit panicked by his lack of sight. He seemed to be there, blinded for hours, until he heard a grating female voice.

“Sweetie? Are you okay?”

His mother’s voice didn’t elicit a response from him. It wasn’t like he could speak if he wanted to.

“I have good news. The parents at the party are going to testify against those boys… I mean the two that’s left. They’re going to probably serve time. Lou will probably be released in a few months. His record’s going to be cleared. Things will go back to normal.”

Jeff doesn’t move.

His mother sighs, going in to hug her son. “I know you can’t speak, but I’m sure you’re very happy.”

A month and a half pass and Jeff was still stuck in the hospital bed. He couldn’t do much, and it was a shame. Jeff’s wounds were intense and itchy under the wrappings that were replaced when he was under heavy medication. If he wasn’t medicated, he would kick and writhe like an animal.

The day came for Jeff’s wrappings to be taken off for the last time.

“Now,” the doctor in charge of Jeff’s care began. “I don’t want anyone to be surprised. Jeff’s wounds were very serious and while he has made great progress, I would… advise plastic surgery to allow him to have a normal life.”

Jeff’s mother and father glance to each other. “Is it that bad?”

The doctor nods, beginning the process of unwrapping. His skin was exposed more and more, and the first thing Jeff’s mother’s noticed was that his freckles were all gone. His father noticed that Jeff’s skin was now bright red and wrinkled. The last few bandages are removed and Jeff’s mother screams.

Jeff’s eyes go wide at the intense reaction. “What?” His skin felt tight as he tries to speak. His voice was rough and gravely from disuse. “What’s wrong with my face? What’s wrong with it?”

The doctor immediately passes Jeff a mirror, which he uses to see the ugly, disturbing, red face in the mirror. His nose had been melted off and fused into a couple gaping holes. His ears had melted into the sides of his head. His hair was mostly gone, besides a few strands that had grown long and others were burned short. His skin was leathery and wrinkled, looking like melted butter.

His father attempted to console the blank-faced young man, a hand being set on his reddened shoulder. “Jeff, it’s not too bad. We can fix it.”

Jeff stared at his reflection. “Fix it? Why would you? It’s perfect. I had always been so focused on appearances. This is so beautiful!” Jeff began to laugh, his grip tightening on the mirror until the black handle snapped. His father took the mirror, horrified by the ugly laugh of his son. “I’ve never felt better! I feel on top of the world! Look at me!”

Immediately, Jeff’s mother pulled his doctor to the side. “Listen… is my son alright? He’s been through a lot, so is he okay? Psychologically?”

“He’s most likely fine. He’s been on pain killers quite a lot lately so his body is just getting it out of his system. Don’t overload him with stimulus, feed him light, and if he’s still showing odd behaviors, bring him here. We’ll test him.”

Jeff’s mother sighs in relief. “Thank you, doctor. Are we free to go?”

“Yes. Let me get a nurse to bring Jeff’s clothes.”

The doctor was gone for only a moment before he comes back with the white hoodie and black jeans. Jeff was dressed quickly with the help of a couple nurses and was quite impressed by how clean they got his clothes. He couldn’t help the intense stares at them and at his clothes. The tears in the hoodie were stitched closed cleanly.

Jeff, from the neck down, looked okay. It gave his parents some hope.

“Come on Jeff, baby, we have to leave.”

Jeff leaned into his mother, whose arms were around him, eyes tired from the light around him. He giggles hysterically. “Yes, momma.”

 

Margaret stirred from her sleep, hearing the sound of low laughing coming from the hallway bathroom. She stood from her bed, making sure not to wake her husband, walking to the bathroom. She opened the door, and she saw so much blood. Jeff had taken one of his old combat knives, one that she hadn’t caught and taken away from him. Jeff had taken a knife to his face and carved a Chelsea smile across it.

“Jeff, what did you do?”

Jeff looked to his mother, deep black rings around his fading, brown eyes. “I want to smile. I want to smile. I want to smile and it’s so much easier this way.”

“Jeff, what’s wrong with your eyes? Are you okay?”

“I’m so tired. I hadn’t slept in weeks. I could see the little creatures, smiling at me, telling me not to close my eyes. So I burned them off. My eyes are so dry. I can see, so well.”

Jeff’s mother began to back away. This thing wasn’t human. How could it be? “That’s impossible. After a few days with no sleep…”

“What’s wrong, momma? Aren’t I your beautiful baby boy?”

Jeff’s mother forced a smile. “Yes! Yes, son! Let me get your father, to show him how pretty you are!” She closes the door behind her, quickly walking to her room. She shook her husband. “Honey, where’s the gun? Jeff’s not human, he wasn’t ever human, he - !”

She stops, eyes fixed on the thing she had birthed. He had his knife, still dripping in his blood.

“Jeffy…”

His eyes were flooded with black tar, dripping slowly from his eyes and flooding the holes where his nose used to be. “Momma. You lied to your baby boy.”

She doesn’t get a chance to speak before her throat was slashed. She collapsed into a pile, gurgling and choking on her own blood. Jeff’s father tried to get out of bed but was tangled in his covers. Jeff gutted his father, enjoying the screams as he looked at the intestines that had spilled from him.

 

Lou had been told the news on the day before his release. He was sat in his well-furnished cell. It was more of a bedroom, something given to the kids who were soon to be freed. He tossed and turned in the night, hearing the noise of footsteps. It was probably the wardens.

Lou closed his eyes, listening to the footsteps. They were hypnotic and even, and a bit too graceful and slow. He was on the edge of sleep but found himself feeling as if someone was watching him. He turns in his bed, only to stop when he sees a black gym shoe on one of the wooden sides of his bed. How didn’t he hear this person approach and climb on the creaking bed? He turns to see their face, seeing someone so horrible; he wouldn’t have considered it to be Jeff if it wasn’t for the hoodie he was wearing.

“Jeff? Is that you? What happened to you? What are you - ?”

Lou’s mouth was covered by a gentle but firm hand. He was confused and dazed from his sleepy state, only to be jolted awake by the glint of a knife. Lou started to thrash and try to scream, only for Jeff to drop a knee into Lou’s gut. He was ready to kill his third target. He had to kill everyone connected to him in any way.

Friends. Friends of friends. Acquaintances of friends. Strangers.

He had to infect everything.

He lifts the knife, ready to plunge it into Lou.

“Shush shush shush, shhh… Hush, little baby. Just go to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I am the author here to say that I made the changes here for a reason.


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